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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29573694">Silvertone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_shiiine/pseuds/sun_shiiine'>sun_shiiine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Related, F/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Polyamory, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:07:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29573694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_shiiine/pseuds/sun_shiiine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Most people would probably reject a job following three assassins through time and space. As long as you stay quiet and stay out of their way everything should be fine, right?</p>
<p>**PRE TUA**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Axel (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), Oscar (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), Otto (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), The Swedes (Umbrella Academy) &amp; Reader, The Swedes (Umbrella Academy)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You have no idea how this could have happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well maybe you did have a clue. Your contract with the Commission states that you’re guaranteed a job, it just never specifies <em>what</em> job. Rumors have been spreading about budget cuts and demotions and of course you’re one of the lucky ones. Your pay is now nearly cut in half but at least you still have work, right? You suppose you could go back home to your own time and place and see how you fare, but that worked out so well for you the first time, huh?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That's how you ended up here in The Handler’s office, seated to the right of three silver haired men. She called the four of you here for introductions and she’s about half an hour late at this point. At first you attempted polite small talk and got little response from any of them. You decided to just sit and wait it out. Maybe she could get the conversation to flow. But here the four of you sit in awkward silence. Your eyes keep zipping around the room, refusing to settle on any of them, begging yourself to find anything in the room at least half as interesting as they truly are. You shift in your seat once again as the three sit perfectly still, waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’ve seen them before of course. In the hallways, the cafeteria, at the company holiday parties. They show their faces for a few minutes, say hello to the boss and then head their own way for the night. But not before the one who you believe to be the youngest discreetly piles a plate high with food for the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now you’re their assistant. Assistant? You couldn’t imagine any assassins working for the Commission needing an assistant. Grown adults can take care of themselves. Grown adults who kill people for a living can <em>definitely</em> take care of themselves. Your days as a desk agent are over. Now you're essentially a babysitter. No wonder they wouldn’t speak to you. They are certainly much more upset about this than you. Now you have to cook for them, clean up after them, run errands. Do you have to clean their weapons? Their guns? No way any of the three would even let you near one. You just hope they don’t resent you for taking away whatever freedom they have left. None of you had a choice in this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least ten minutes later you hear an impatient sigh and turn your head slightly, enough to watch them in your peripherals. The one in the middle with slicked back hair begins speaking in Swedish and you can tell he’s upset. The other two seem in agreement with what he’s saying. He continues for a minute or two before rising from his seat. You turn your head fully this time and look him in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waste of time.” He says and takes a step toward the door. As if on cue it opens and here she is, forty five minutes later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I see you're all getting to know each other.” The Handler saunters in slowly, the glittering hat she chose for today brushing against both sides of the doorframe. The middle one continues to stand and tilts his head, eyes narrowing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waste of time.” He repeats to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Axel please sit down. Let me explain the situation.” She continues to stroll over to her desk, still taking all the time in the world. You suppose she has it all anyway. “You four will be working together from now on.” Her eyes fall to you. “You will go where they go. Wherever and whenever they get a new assignment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all rotate their head to you and Axel still has not sat down. You keep your eyes on The Handler’s, pretending they're attached by some invisible string. Knowing these men are staring at you has your heart racing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When does this start?” Axel asks, eyes not leaving you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Handler smirks. “Why right now of course.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rome 44 BC. What happened here again? Nevermind. You don’t want to know. You decided back in that office you weren’t going to ask questions and just stay out of their way. It would make these circumstances easier for all of you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For Axel, Otto, and Oscar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re currently holed up in a small shabby house on the outskirts of the city and looks like it could crumble any minute. You were waiting for them to come back from… wherever they went. You watched each of them grab a bag and walk out. Do their weapons match the time period? Does it matter? Do they care? Probably not to all three questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was late and getting cold. The clothes you had brought for this were not enough. Maybe you should have asked <em>some</em> questions. Maybe you should just prepare better for next time and continue to leave them alone as much as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At last the door opens and the three brothers walk in. Oscar enters first, making eye contact with a half smile. Axel walks in and quickly sets his bag down on a table to the side of the entryway. He’s muttering something in Swedish as he walks to a back room, ignoring you. Otto comes in last, large blood splatters all over his clothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A-Are you okay?” You stutter. He doesn’t appear to be in bad shape, but you can’t be sure if the blood is his or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” He answers quietly, avoiding eye contact and following his brother to the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oscar walks over to the table to put down his bag. “He is fine.” He turns to you. “Not his.” He says as he gestures up and down to his body, referring to the blood on his brother’s clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” That’s all you can say. What else is there to say?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You see Oscar turn back to open his bag and hear something clinking when he reaches inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns to you again only with what look like ceramic jars in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wine?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’re not cold anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had meant to ask one of them if they had an extra jacket when they returned but the wine has warmed you up plenty. You and Oscar had finished the first jar by yourselves and he handed you the second for you to open. The cork came off with a pop and when you glanced inside you <em>swear</em> the wine sparkled. When you looked up to tell him you saw his eyes twinkled the same way. Maybe the wine is just messing with your head. When was the last time you drank this much?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, you perk up as you hear the familiar whoosh and clink of one of the Commission’s tubes as it goes into the other room. Axel emerges from the back room a moment later and eyes what you’re holding in your hands. “You took his wine.” It wasn’t a question and he sounds so <em>tired</em>, like this is something he deals with too often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oscar chuckles as he takes the jar from you. “He wasn’t going to drink it anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally you would grimace at what that implied, drinking a dead man’s wine. Dead because of who else is occupying this house. The same ones you’re following through time and space. But right now you were nothing but giggles on the dusty floor of the run down home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axel studies you for a moment before speaking. “Assignment is complete and we have another already. Can you travel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, you’re not sure. You’ve never time jumped drunk before. “What if I can’t?” you blink dumbly at him a few times. He looks at you and takes a deep breath. God, how stupid are you? Of course you can travel. You <em>need</em> to be able to travel. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get in their way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what, I’m totally fine. Stupid question, sorry.” You feel the words rush out of your mouth. He nods and begins repacking the bags on the table, double checking that everything the four of you brought is still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you heard Oscar set down the ceramic jar on the floor. Empty. He stands up, at least a whole head taller than you. “You will be fine.” He smiles, big, and goes to help Axel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you finally feel like you’ve regained enough bearings, your feet tow you to the other room where you heard the tube land. Where you saw Otto enter and never leave. It’s just as dark and musty as the front room and lacking just as much furniture other than the small chair you find Otto in. He’s still wearing his blood covered clothes and he has the briefcase and tube next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey,” You’re gathering the courage to speak. Come on, you’re drunk. Just say something to him. “We’re leaving soon so… you should probably change before we go.” He finally looks at you and your heart is pounding out of your chest. Way to put your foot in your mouth for the second time in five minutes. “I-I just mean because y-you know...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and gets to his feet, passing by you in the narrow doorway on his way out to his brothers and presumably some clean clothes. The smell of all that blood makes you feel sick, but the smell of him makes you feel warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re not cold anymore.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>You’re a bit drunk still. Nothing intense, but your close proximity to all three of them is setting you on edge. It’s time to leave and you’re about to open the briefcase. You didn’t look at what was in the tube, but they know the assignment and the next location is automatically programmed into their case. Otto and Oscar have their hands gently on your shoulders while Axel is in front of you, holding onto his brothers the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” You look at each of them and see no signs of uncertainty. You open it and with a blue flash the four of you are gone, leaving behind the empty wine jars and Otto’s bloody clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You all made it there… wherever there is. You’re a little nauseous, but you know it’s just from the jump. <em>You will be fine.</em> And you are, actually. The cool air hitting your face feels good this time. The four of you begin to inspect your new surroundings. Good, it’s dark out. It’s time for bed, right? You need to sleep this off and you’re sure Oscar does too. Are they going to work tonight? You don’t trust yourself to open your mouth and ask questions in case you say something else completely idiotic. You want to follow their lead but, they’ve been speaking amongst themselves in Swedish since arriving… here. Again, where are you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Louisiana. 2010.” Axel says, as if he was reading your thoughts, but it was probably just the muddled look on your face. You nod your head, grateful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lets go to the hotel!” Oscar excitedly commands, leading the way before he even finishes his sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hotel. A <em>bed</em>. A modern time with electronics, heating and air conditioning. Hopefully this mission will last a few days. As luck would have it, the briefcase landed your group only a block from the hotel. Or rather... motel. As long as it's the Commission spending money on agents, this is along the lines of what you were expecting. Whatever, it could be worse. You all could have been sleeping on that grimy floor back in Rome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You walk into the front office and make your way to the desk with the receptionist and give her the alias and fake ID the Commission provided you with. She hands you keys to the two rooms and you all make your way to the nearest one first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One bed. Not even a couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, no problem. If the other room is like this you have no problem sharing with one of them. This is your job now, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of you head up to the second floor and open the door to the room. Two beds. And a couch. They all set their bags down. Cool, no awkward conversation to be had about who's sharing the other bed. You hand the key to this room to the nearest one to you, Otto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go settle in and probably fall asleep immediately,” You say, forcing a laugh and backing out into the hall. “Goodnight guys.” You give them a small wave and head back toward the stairs to your room. You know, the room with <em>one</em> bed.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>You don’t fall asleep immediately. Your brain won’t let you at this point. First assignment out and you made yourself look like an absolute fool in front of two of the three of them. You didn’t even <em>do</em> anything other than get drunk with the youngest of the three. If this mission lasts a few days like you hope, maybe you could go pick up groceries or do laundry. Do <em>something</em> for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You think you’re imagining it when you hear soft knocks at the door. You almost don’t get up and answer it until you hear them again. Is it one of them? They came downstairs to see me? And if it's not one of them then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, there's a peephole. Unfortunately, he’s too tall for it to catch his face. It’s Otto. You open the door a few inches and feel a rush of cold air. “Hey, is everything okay?” You ask, shivering. Once again, you’re concerned for him. Why is he coming to your door this late and alone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts reaching behind him into his back pocket and you tense up, your heart going a million miles an hour. Oh no, you <em>really</em> fucked up today didn’t you? You knew you shouldn’t have ever sai-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you should have this.” He holds out what looks like a small switchblade in front of you. You reach out to take it and he grabs your hand, showing you how to hold it properly and slowly taking the blade out of the matte black handle which fits perfectly in your fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve never held anything this small and sharp before. “You think I’ll nee-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This job is… You never know…” He’s struggling to find the right words without scaring you off. “Just in case.” He sighs and closes the small weapon, still holding your hand. “We will not always be with you. Be careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes. Thank you, Otto.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>After you've said goodnight for the second time you close the door and begin to inspect the sharp blade you've been gifted. Basic matte black handle with grooves on the side for grip and the sharpest blade you've ever seen. You get back into bed and flip it over a few times, still in disbelief Otto would entrust you with something like this. Then again, he said you may need it and he knows what he's talking about. After opening, closing, and examining it for the umpteenth time, you notice something has been engraved. Small, almost purposefully hidden on the inside of the knife. A view you can only get when twisting it open.</p><p>
  <em>Otto.</em>
</p><p>Yeah, you're not cold anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Otto was right when he said they wouldn’t always be with you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve been gone at least a full day at this point. You’ve been on your bed with the curtains open, the entirety of the parking lot seen through the glass. You’ve managed to kill most of the time by watching the dinky TV in your hotel room. You did leave once to get a few necessities. Groceries, first aid supplies, and a thick jacket for you, just in case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just in case.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The three of them left yesterday morning. What if the knife Otto had gifted you last night was what he was in need of now? You didn’t think you’d be worried about them. Their profession is complicated, but you know they're more than capable of handling whatever gets thrown at them. You begin flipping through the channels once more, now accustomed to the grainy reception when you see a spot of bright orange making its way toward the motel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s them, dressed in orange jumpsuits that are covered in something black with white hard hats on their heads. You nearly jump out of bed and head outside to greet them. When they spot you, Oscar’s face breaks out into his typical big grin, but the other two remain indifferent. At least one of them is in a good mood. Otto and Oscar separate from Axel and head for the stairs while Axel continues toward you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice outfits.” You tease.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will stay here for a few more days.” He announces, ignoring your comment. “Leave again tomorrow and check on things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So everything went okay?” You ask, trying your best not to sound too dejected at the cold shoulder he always seems to give you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” He gruffs. “Come upstairs soon. Something for you.” He says, already turning away from you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t bother responding, he’s already to the stairs. You step back into your room. You did have things to give them anyway. You filled two large paper bags with the food and supplies you bought earlier, keeping a separate bag for yourself. You hold onto both bags in one arm and grab your key card with your free hand before heading out and up. You knock softly when you get to their room and stumble back when Otto opens the door, only a towel wrapped around his waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“H-hey, sorry,” Your eyes immediately darting away to the floor. “Axel told me to come by a-and I have stuff for you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Otto steps aside, granting you access to their room. You enter and he closes the door, taking the bags from your hands and sets them down before making his way to the furthest bed from the door. Axel is sitting on the edge of the other bed and that's when you notice Oscar's absence and hear running water. You should have given them a few minutes, <em>of course</em> they would want to get cleaned up when they got back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Axel is holding something in his hands. As you begin to walk over he extends his arm and holds it out to you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flip phone? Oh yeah, 2010.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You take it from him and begin to look through it. Not much to look at. Just three contacts, all on speed dial. Oh, and the date. April 21st.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This may take some time.” He says, standing up and pulls his phone out of his pocket to show you. “Just in case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your eyes widen and you let out an airy laugh. “Yeah,” You agree. “Just in case.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” A voice whispers in the dark. “Wake up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You jerk awake and move back against the headboard, reaching for Otto’s knife on the nightstand beside you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no it’s me.” They say softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your eyes begin to make out a face revealed by moonlight. Oscar?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-what's going on? What time is it?” You ask sitting up and rubbing your eyes, his familiar grin growing on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh? Wha-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See the nightlife.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Bu-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will be back before they wake up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you get in here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ignores you and walks over to the wall and turns on the light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Fuck</em>. It’s so bright in here. You pull the covers up to shield your eyes and Oscar swiftly pulls them off of you and the bed completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our little secret. Like you and Otto.” He says, grin growing somehow even bigger, his eyes on the nightstand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You grab the knife before you leave.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>A few hours later, you're tipsy walking down Bourbon Street, arm in arm with Oscar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are so many people. So many bright, neon lights, cups full of alcohol, and music on every corner. You also cant' help but notice the women on the balcony above you two, encouraging Oscar to take his shirt off for some beads. You feel a spark of… jealousy? It can’t be. You don’t know him. He’s not yours. He gives them a wave as you both continue to walk down the street, his arm that you have wrapped in yours pulls away slightly and reaches down for your hand instead. He entwines his fingers in yours and you feel excitement start to rush through your body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Were you jealous?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your heart picks up speed at the question and you let out a nervous laugh, “No way. Nothing to be jealous of.” You say way too quickly. Your head completely turns away from him as you continue to walk down the street, hand in hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of you keep strolling until the music and lights are well behind you. You approach a little park lined with oak trees and he leads you to a bench beneath a lamp post. Somehow it’s just the two of you here. It must be later than you realized. You reach into your pocket for your phone but his next question stops you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me the truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>About what? His question earlier? “What do you m-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you get bored?” He asks instead. “Just… waiting for me and my brothers?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” You hesitate. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises an eyebrow at you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that's my job after all so, like, I mean-” You quickly add on, trying to find the right way to finish your sentence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyebrow is still raised, this time in amusement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You roll your eyes at his cartoon expression and stand up. “It’s probably time to get going anyway.” You say, crossing your arms. "We've been out too long."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His smile fades, but he agrees. He stands up and leads the way, hands in his pockets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Our little secret.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It didn’t stay a secret, but you weren’t so sure you had one in the first place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You spot Axel waiting for you outside your door from across the parking lot. You take a deep breath and exhale, “Pray for me?” You ask Oscar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good luck,” He says, only loud enough for you to hear, before diverging for the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You finally reach your door, nervously twirling the key card in your hands. “Hey Axel, sorry, I know it’s late.” He steps aside and allows you to scan the card and open the door, but he doesn’t say anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stays completely silent as he follows you in. He stays near the door as you stand awkwardly in the dark, waiting for him to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I know I fucked up but-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop distracting my brothers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Whoa.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S-sorry? I-” You stammer out before he interrupts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are here to work. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All </span>
  </em>
  <span>of us.” He says sharply, taking a step closer to you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re at a loss for words. He’s just so daunting and your heart begins to rattle your ribcage. “B-but you guys are working. I mean, the last assignment was finished in one night.” You’re so nervous your whole body feels like it's vibrating at this point. “Oscar just wanted a night out after working all day, can you blame him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does nothing but tilt his head. His heavy gaze doesn’t leave your face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I’m not a distraction,” You sigh. “And I haven’t done anything wrong.” Assassins can do whatever they want in their free time… right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s silent for another moment. “Do you like carrying Otto’s knife around?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You swallow hard, your hand instinctively reaching for your back pocket. “I... T-that’s not what this is ab-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We leave again in the morning. Finish assignment.” He doesn’t sound agitated anymore. He doesn’t sound like anything really and it’s driving you crazy that you still can’t read him yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He exits, leaving you alone in the dark.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>They’ve been gone for three days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re starting to think this unbearable boredom is Axel’s way of punishing you. Texting them is pointless. Oscar only sends smiley faces, Otto answers in Swedish, and Axel has yet to say anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re stuck under the covers, the TV channel rerunning the same episode for the third time today. You had given up on flipping through the channels, but what could one more time hurt? No, no talk shows, ugh, not another sitcom, not… wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Breaking News: Burning Oil Rig Sinks In Gulf Of Mexico; 11 Still Missing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You had watched a segment of this earlier today, but now they’re showing new video. The camera's zoom into the explosion and cut away to an interview with the CEO of the company responsible for the catastrophe. Behind him you can make out three familiar faces in orange suits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No way.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You didn’t change the channel after that.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Oscar said they’d meet you here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re currently sitting alone in some dive bar on Bourbon Street alone, eyes flitting to the door every few minutes. You don’t know where they are. Oscar never texted you back after sending the address and time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re sipping on your third water in two hours, trying to find something to keep yourself busy. The bartender definitely thinks you got stood up, and in other circumstances you’d agree, but you know this isn’t the case. They wanted to meet </span>
  <em>
    <span>here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not the motel. So where are they?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s 2 PM now. You’ve counted all of the bottles behind the bar five times and turned down the bartender’s offer for a free shot twice. You think the bar is pretty lively for the time of day, but then you remember where you are. The dim lights improve the atmosphere, but make it even more difficult to find faces in a crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You keep the glass in your hand, condensation running down onto your fingers, and stare down at the bar countertop, head in your other hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You whip your head around. Who is-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You by yourself?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re looking at a stranger. Average height, dark hair, and not who you’re waiting on. Yeah technically, but you don’t want to tell him the truth. You don’t want to say anything at all. You ignore him and turn back around to the bar, hand over the top of your glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man raises his voice, “Hey, no need to be stuck up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You clench your jaw and stay silent. This guy isn’t a real threat, right? After all, the bartender is right in front of you and your drink is covered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I just wanted to buy you a dr-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Huh? You turn your head around to see why he stopped talking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You see Otto, his hand on the man’s shoulder, and Oscar and Axel coming through the door. You turn completely and sit up straight, staring up at Otto who is scowling at the man. The bar falls silent as the brothers’ heavy footsteps approach the three of you and they flank the tallest of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey guys, no fights in here. Take it outside.” The bartender calls to your group, rolling their eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Axel says your name and your eyes snap to his. Still, no one moves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, man, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend, I just-” The man begins to plead before Otto removes his hand and watches the man run out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later you feel Axel’s hand on your lower back, gently urging you up and out of your seat. He walks you out, Oscar and Otto in tow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only when the four of you make it back to the motel that he finally lets go of you.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next flash of the briefcase brought the four of you to the Commission’s headquarters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turns out, the boys are due for some time off. According to The Handler, they’ve completed enough jobs over a certain length of time and are required to take some leave. In other words, the Commission doesn’t want to pay them for however many other jobs they may complete in the next two weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two weeks, unpaid time off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This didn’t seem to surprise any of them. It must not be the first time this has happened, and you couldn’t help but wonder how often it does. You had no experience with field agents and their contracts and you couldn’t help but sit silently on the sidelines, feeling useless once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You follow them out and down the hallway, Oscar slowing to walk alongside you. His hand hangs down low besides yours, fingers twitching and grazing yours gently, but never interlocking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your heart leaped in your chest and you realize, he has a reputation at the Commission. They all do, and it would hurt their image to be too chummy with a colleague.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You trail down the stairs and out the front door. The four of you now standing by the large pillars in front of the entrance, silent. You shift awkwardly, holding their briefcase in one hand as other agents pass in and out of the door behind you. You want to give them all a hug goodbye at least, but you’re waiting to see what they do. You couldn’t risk messing something else up </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Oscar pulls you in and squeezes you tight. When he lets go, Otto holds his hand out to take the briefcase from you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You give him the small, portable time machine with a sigh, “Well, uh… I’ll see you guys later.” Your face cracks a small smile, trying to hide how let down you are at the circumstances. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Otto and Oscar take a few steps away from you and ready the briefcase. Unexpectedly, Axel gently cups your cheek with his hand and turns your head to face only him. “We will be back soon.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>A while later, you were invited to lunch by a desk agent, Dot. Of all days for the cafeteria to serve Swedish food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now you’re in the middle of a table, surrounded by other people, the usual people Dot eats with and her across from you. She was currently crunching on some crisp bread while you slowly moved the meatballs around on your plate with your fork, chin in your other palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not much of an appetite?” You look up and see her kind smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just a little weird being back, I think.” You set your fork down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, but they’ll be back soon enough,” She assures you, waving her hand in the air in front of her. “Then onto the next assignment!” How is she always so chipper?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” a new voice gets your attention. A man with graying hair on his head. “They’re on vacation right, so why didn’t they take you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whole table had their eyes on you at this point. “Well, we haven’t worked together very long. I-I don’t know them that well yet.” Some seemed to accept this answer, others had already formed their own opinions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah right, did you see that hug that one gave her before they left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Days alone, just her and three men.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonder what goodbye present she got.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re in such disbelief at this point it feels like the world stopped. This is an actual nightmare. Even if something had happened, it’s no one’s business anyway. You stand up and head for the exit, hearing Dot calling after you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You're just out of the door when you feel her hand tap your shoulder, but you keep walking. “I’m sorry about that.” She sounds out of breath. “They should have kept their thoughts to themselves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You scoff, “Yeah, you think?” You don't mean to take out your anger on her, it’s not her you’re mad at. You’d rather just be left alone after hearing what your colleagues really thought about your new work position.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re about to reach the stairs when you finally turn to face her. “Look… Can we talk later? Lunch tomorrow. Just us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, yes of course!” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>You ate together the next day and the day after that. The two weeks went by remarkably fast after finding a friend to spend time with. Somehow you never got tired of her constant sunny disposition. She’s got loads of stories of her case on the apocalypse and she’ll keep going if you don’t stop her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>According to Dot, most of the desk agents had been demoted and moved into positions like yours. The handful of people at the table on the first day were the only ones left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-Thai tomorrow. Oh, if only you had another day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh shit, that’s right. The boys come back tomorrow morning and then you’re on the road again. You realize you had completely zoned out before her last remark and you think she didn’t notice, or maybe she just doesn’t mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gives you an understanding smile and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “It must be exciting to see them again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You blush and nod your head, “Yeah, two weeks feels longer than it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks at you before opening her mouth and then closing it again, like she’s debating on what to say next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You pull your hand back and reach for your drink in front of you, index finger trailing down the condensation. “You can ask me anything. I’m sure everyone has questions about them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles again after a moment of consideration. “Well, I was actually wondering about you.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Huh?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  “You had two weeks off as well… Why didn’t you go anywhere? Nothing interesting to see back home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s not what you were expecting. Your heart tightens and you smile politely at her. How are you supposed to tell her you have nowhere to go, no home to go back to. Not that you were missing much. At least now you get to see the world and know the true meaning of independence. And now you have other people to live for as well. Less than twenty four hours and you’ll see them again.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Somewhere in Sweden, hundreds of years ago, Oscar, Otto, and Axel step out of their little home in the country and open their briefcase.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ikeaxmafia.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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